Leaving Gotham
by kalinmarie
Summary: Sequel to Discovering Batman.. Bruce and Sarah, now married, are living in Florence, Italy with their adopted son, Dick Grayson, after being stalked and nearly killed by a gang leader. Now that they have left Gotham, they must decide if they can truly leave the past behind them.
1. Chapter 1

Leaving Gothom City had been one of the hardest decisions either one of us had ever made. The city had molded us, torn us to pieces and built us back up again. It held so many terrible memories and so many awful ones - it seemed to hold the pen of our lives and wrote our stories in such different, unique ways. The city that had once held so much life and passion had been destroyed by too many evil men, but somewhere along the way, it found it's place in the world once again and rose despite the odds. But suddenly, three of it's inhabitants had realized that a chapter had finally ended and another begged to be written, blank pages awaiting them full of bright future, heartache, loss, additions and plenty of angst, as always. But in the end, there always seemed to be a happily ever after just waiting, as long as you are willing to keep on keeping on and wait to be rescued from cliffhangers.

Chapter One

It seemed like the days in Florence were always welcomed with bright sunshine and smiling people, walking the streets of town mindlessly. The city was full of so much light and creativity, such a difference from the city we had come from less than a year before. Gone were the days that I woke up with dread, wondering if Bruce was going to make it through another night of being a caped vigilante or if I was going to be kidnapped from a gangster with a knack for holding grudges. As usual, I woke up to my favorite sight - Bruce had woken up earlier in the morning, as per usual. Dick loved waking him up early, claiming he was taking Alfred's job, and Bruce enjoyed helping the little guy start his morning routine that he copied from Bruce, of course. His delighted face when he did his first handstand and managed a push-up was worth waking up at 5am every single morning of my life, but seeing Bruce laughing along with him was even better.

Bruce was buttoning up a navy blue shirt when I finally sat up, back muscles flexing under the tight back brace that he absolutely _abhorred_ wearing. During our year here, he had lost some muscle and weight from the pain and had started pushing himself to be back into shape. Part of me knew it was probably just him being...a male. But the other part of me couldn't help but worry that he was still living in Gothom in his mind, some days. As if he was still preparing to go out and fight criminals every night instead of laying in bed with me, being a simple, average father and husband. He stood in front of the mirror, putting cufflinks on and smiling at my image in the mirror. "Good morning, sweetheart."

"Morning. Where's Dick?" I inquired before finally getting out of bed, running a hand through the rat's nest on top of my head that used to look like smooth, blonde curls. "Eating his body weight in pancakes in the kitchen, I think." He stretched his back slightly, just barely giving me a glimpse of a grimace before hiding it and striding over to me while I looked in the closet (which was probably larger than my whole bedroom in my old apartment building, before Bruce) and kissed my neck, attempting to make his way to my mouth before I pushed his head away playfully.

"Morning breath."

"I don't care." But before he could manage to plant a kiss, Dick was running into the bedroom and interrupting, which was becoming a pretty regular occurrence as of late.

"I meant you had morning breath." I teased. "Gross."

He ran in between us and broke us away with a tongue sticking out, giggling towards us and bouncing onto the messy bed. Bruce had another bad night, which was actually a pretty rare thing nowadays. As soon as we made the move to Florence, his nightmares started gradually improving until he was only having one or two a week, a far cry from one every single night. But his bad nights wreaked havoc on the bed-spread. _If only his back and knee pain would've improved like the nightmares did, we would have it made._ Dick had quite obviously dressed himself that morning, lean frame clad in a pair of bright red sweatpants and his always-present orange hoodie that I despised so much. No matter how much dirt that boy managed to get on it or how much I tried to dull the color, every time it came out of the wash, it seemed to get brighter and brighter.

"Honey, go change -"

"But Sarah-"

"No buts, go change. Time for school, buddy." Bruce cut in before he argued even more - the kid was a good debater, I'd give him that. I wasn't known for being the stern parent, either, so he knew that as long as Bruce didn't interfere (_and he always did, when needed._) he would get his way with me. Even though he lost the battle, he skipped happily out of the room and less than 5 seconds later, Bruce was crossing the large space in big steps and shutting the door, strutting back to me eagerly and wrapping his arms around my shoulders with his firm but gentle grip, kissing me breathless. I laughed when he finally broke away, keeping a hold on him for as long as I had time for. He was expected at a meeting for an overseas Wayne Enterprise thing in less than 2 hours and it was almost an hour and a half drive without traffic, and Italy was no respecter of deadlines. But still, I couldn't refuse a few extra moments with him before we had to work for most of the day. I cherished the time alone more than anything. When it's just the two of us, like this, wrapped up in each other with my head buried into his shoulder and his arms around my own. It was a simple pleasure that we had to go without during our courting period but I was most certainly taking advantage now. Deep down, I knew that we wouldn't have to go back to that life ever again and we'd never have to fear so badly again, but some days, I felt like I had to hug both of my men a little tighter (_even though the much younger and smaller one hated it._) and count my blessings. I knew exactly how lucky I had gotten when I had met Bruce..Batman..and I wasn't planning on forgetting that anytime soon.

"We've gotta get going, Sarah." He propped his chin on my head with a sigh, moving an arm behind me, checking his watch I knew. One of his only things left from his father - the cufflinks had been his, as well. The watch was almost always on his wrist, taken such good care of you would've sworn it was priceless and not just an average, half-way decent watch. But I knew it was worth millions in Bruce's eyes and one day, it would be passed down to the next generation of Wayne's. Dick had already made joking claims for it. On days that he had earlier meetings, during Dick's school time, I typically went with him. He claimed it was helpful, having an extra eye there to look over paperwork and contracts, but I suspected that it was more along the line of him being bored to death without me, just in the company of his ever-so-rude employers here in Italy. All of them were either such workaholics to be friends with or so rude that you didn't want to be in their company for a second longer than necessary, and I knew it annoyed the life out of all of them when Mr. Wayne toted his wife into the meetings.

I dressed quickly, slipping on a black dress, flats and a jacket. Fall mornings in Italy were almost always an enjoyable temperature, but they kept the inside of Wayne Enterprises freezing cold. Before long, we sent Dick off to school and headed to work ourselves.

One of the only cars Bruce brought to Italy was his black Lamborghini, along with my Honda Accord (which he despised, but a Lambo isn't exactly a family friendly car.) sooner rather than later, I expected a mini van would be joining the family. Change like that was inevitable, especially when a certain billionaire had decided that he wanted more children. Whether we had our own or adopted again, we wouldn't always be able to fit our brood into my car. The only time we drove the Lambo was for trips like these, and I always enjoyed the time spent driving in it, even if was just to and from work. It was just small enough where I could reach him easily and twine our arms together while he drove.

"This meeting is about a new pay cut - Fox called me earlier this morning to get me posted on what to expect." He said, pulling out of the driveway. The small neighborhood had been friendly enough, the young boys falling in love with Bruce and his exotic cars and the teenaged girls falling in love with his tailored suits and interesting accent. (A Gothomite accent wasn't exactly a familiar one in Florence, making him seem so rich and debonair, according to the girls.) I spied one of the girls just then as we left the flat, peeking out of her white lacy window with her face cupped in her palm, a dreamy expression in her eyes. "Oh, Mrs. Wayne, how lucky you are to have such a...fine husband!" She had giggled to me when we were moving in, Bruce moving in boxes behind us. Of course, I couldn't help but agree. _Fine indeed._

"Mm, being the bearer of bad news. Your favorite thing." I winked at him as he cringed, playful grin on his face. "Most definitely, I just love hearing my employee's complain about their pay getting slashed..._again_. I've got to do something to fix this. We can't afford the research we need to be doing with so many employee's being paid so much. The only option is to cut some of their checks but that may end up making us lose employee's, which we obviously don't want, either. I'm afraid I may have to start firing some people. Well, Fox gets to do that now." He corrected himself. Years of being the boss over all things Wayne Enterprises was hard to walk away from, I knew. It was strange for him, relying on someone else to run the business completely. Now, he was just the co-CEO of sorts, with more responsibility here and there, and less responsibility in other places. It was a weird situation, but it worked for him and Lucius, so I didn't fuss over the logistics of it. It was difficult for him to remember that he wasn't the boss over everything anymore. My only concern was that he and Lucius will have a falling out eventually, harming what they had going.

"I know you don't want to fire people, but sometimes, that's what has to happen. Wayne Enterprises is helping people, but they need to do more research on this new project of yours in order to go a step further. You just have to decide if it's worth it or not."

"But is harming people by firing them worth it? I can't help but feel like I'm being a bit of a hypocrite, here. I'm hurting people all for the sake of helping people. How does that make sense?" He sighed, running a hand through his carefully gelled hair and ruining it before locking his hands back on the steering wheel, turning sharply onto the road towards the Italian Wayne Enterprises building. It wasn't much different than Gothom in this part of the city, just without the overwhelming crime. Every time I walked into the building, built so much like the original, it felt like we were coming home again.

But Gothom, I suppose, wasn't really home...not anymore. If home is where the heart is, I knew precisely where home was.

My heart was in Florence Italy, torn into two pieces - one residing currently at a small school in the city, not far from here, and one sitting right next to me in a Lamborghini. And as long as they were near me, I knew I would never have any regrets leaving Gothom City.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: Oh geeze, I left y'all hanging! I didn't mean to go this long without an update but my laptop isn't being very reliable and it's hard to write on my Kindle or main computer, plus I just broke a finger which is making typing rather difficult. (and painful, whoops!) Thank you all SO much for all of the follows and reviews. They mean the world to me! I hope everyone enjoys this chapter.**

**PS: Yes, there was a spelling mistake in the title and it said "Gothom" instead of "Gotham." I blame it on my Kindle which likes to change it every. single. time. I appreciate everyone looking past that mistake. It's currently fixed. Also, this is my first time writing a scene like the one you'll see below and I've never been in Sarah's position, I apologize if it seems fake or staged.**

Life is funny, sometimes. It has it's ways of beating you up just to build you back up even stronger than you were before. The hard times become worth it all once you see how they positively effect your good times. Life can make you so miserable, yet so happy when good finally comes. It can make the most prideful, ungrateful person the most thankful person on earth. I had never realized how much I had until I had it all taken away from me, and I was never truly happy with things until I managed to fight back and get what had been stolen away. And I suppose, those hard times made it easier to get through the next, because it always gives me hope that there are good times ahead. Rainbows after storms...we could get through it, I knew. Even if life treated us like a punching bag, sometimes - We'd punch back.

Chapter 2

"This isn't up for debate, Mr. Richardson. I'm not cancelling this gala. I've already planned it, gotten things ready. I'm not letting these people down." Bruce continued arguing with Mr. Richardson, an uptight, rich, snobby Italian man we had the (_dis_)pleasure of meeting just a few months ago. He had been hired not long before we had come to town, although I was seriously wondering how the man managed to snag a job with his attitude. Bruce may not be the man on top anymore _(he gave that up to Lucius_) but he was still a very powerful man in the company and his wish for the company was generally Lucius' command. Mr. Richardson had guts, I knew that. The gala had been being planned for almost six months, to support a local orphanage and their employee's. It was something very near and dear to Bruce and I's hearts and we took the project on happily, even getting some ideas and help from Dick. But most of the employee's here weren't the happiest about it, concerned that being so closely knit with the poor people would mark their reputation. After all, what billionaire had a place in a small gala for an even smaller orphanage? It had nearly shocked them all to death when Bruce had mentioned it.

"But Mr. Wayne, we just don't have the funds-"

"Well, we'll have to figure it out, then. Perhaps I'll start with letting a few employee's go." Bruce's glare was targeted directly into the smaller man's eyes, fury burning in his brown eyes, just waiting for the man to argue again. He'd been waiting for a chance to have a good reason to get the man fired, and Mr. Richardson knew fully well that he was treading on dangerous ground. He backed away after a moment, his own glare faltering. He sat back down with his head hanging slightly, acting like Dick always did when Bruce sent him to his room. _An unruly, angry child_.

Bruce settled back into his chair next to mine, putting a hand on my knee and giving me an apologetic smile. "Sorry," He whispered. "I'm a jerk at work."

"You have to be in order to get their respect, it seems." I acknowledged, noticing Mr. Richardson glance over at me for a moment with a smirk. He couldn't stay down long, apparently. His eyes raked over my frame for a moment before Bruce noticed, and he quickly reverted his eyes back to the man at the head of the table, talking about a new possible budget cut at the end of the meeting. Before long, the meeting ended without another argument, which was a victory in itself. The Italian branch was apparently much more serious and rigid than those in Gotham City, stuck in their ways. They didn't like change, and Bruce brought change along with him. Too much for their taste.

"Mr. Wayne, if I could steal you away for a moment and show you something downstairs we've been working on?" Phil Waters, a true sweetheart from New York, placed a fatherly hand on Bruce's shoulder as we gathered our things together, a crinkled smile taking over his wrinkled face. He reminded me so much of Alfred in the way that he took Bruce and I in. He was one of the rarity's here and a gentleman to boot. "Of course, Phil. Sarah?"

"I'll just get our stuff and head to the car. You're fine." I smiled. I knew the workers didn't like having a wife lurking around the building.

"Alright. I'll be done in a few minutes." He bent down and kissed me quickly, giving me the keys. He tasted like the terrible coffee they always handed out before a meeting and I scrunched my nose playfully, mouth turning down. "Don't drink anymore of that coffee before you kiss me. Yuck."

"Deal." They walked away as Phil launched into one of his stories, hands waving everywhere as he described something with such flamboyance for such a normally quiet, reserved man.

I slipped on my pea-coat quietly as the rest of the crowd slinked out of the room, searching for better coffee and the next meeting. I leaned down to grab my purse from the floor and nearly jumped out of my shoes as I felt a hand snake across my waist. "Shh, calm down. Are you always this jumpy?" A familiar voice muttered into my ear, laced with an Italian accent and the bitter smell of alcohol on his tongue. _Not my husband..._

He pulled me backwards, his grip tight around my waist to prevent me from moving and shut the door with a click! locking it while looking out the crack just barely to make sure there was no crowd and slipped a hand in my skirt's pocket, shoving me against him. "Mr. Richardson, let go now." I warned, acid seeping into my tone. "Or what?" He chuckled. "Your big, bad husband is going to come in here and fight me? No one is here, honey. He's going to go out in that parking lot and he's not going to think a thing of it until I'm finished with you and gone. After all, you're quite popular here. Someone just probably stopped you to discuss things, right?"

He grabbed my shoulder roughly, the same one that Alfred's gang had beaten up on what seemed like another world and threw me against the edge of a bookshelf and without even thinking, I balled my fist and turned before he could move, lurching forward as my fist collided into his nose and then kneed his groin, watching with slight pleasure as he bent over, coughing violently. I reached back towards him, grabbed his tie in my hands and tightening it just slightly enough for it to be uncomfortable on his throat.

"Don't ever talk to my husband like you did today, and don't ever think about touching me again." I came back at his nose once more, blood seeping onto my hands as he fell back to the ground and I ran out of the door, yelling for Bruce as I escaped. The adrenaline had given me enough strength to get through the little exchange but I felt as if I was dead on my feet running through the hallways.

"Mrs. Wayne? What is it?" One of the security guards stopped me in my tracks, touching my sore shoulder briefly before I gasped in pain. He had done more damage than I'd imagined.

"Mr. Richardson, h-he assaulted me. He's in room 102, where we had the board meeting today. Please, please go get him. I need Bruce, _I need Bruce._" I quaked, tears leaking past the barrier I had set for myself so long ago. _I used to be so good in these situations,_ I thought bitterly.

"Sarah?!" I heard Bruce shout from the top of the stairs, running past the large crowd of people leaving another meeting, everything taking place just as it should while I melted down. He ran to me then, wrapping me in his arms, so different from the arms I had just been in..."Sarah, what happened? I heard Richardson in there shouting and you're down here crying? Did he do something?"

"Can we just go home, please?" I begged. He glanced up at the guard who nodded, gesturing towards the exit. "Take her home, Mr. Wayne. She told me everything I need to know. I'll get someone to contact you later this evening. Get her settled, she needs you."

"Thank you." Bruce nodded, pulling me deeper into his embrace as we made our way home, rain slowly starting to fall from a grey sky, so much like the city we came from. And the weather seemed to match my husband's stormy mood. He stomped towards the car and kept a hand on my back, supporting me while keeping his composure. Something told me that if he didn't see the necessity of being near me then, to make sure I was okay, he would've gone in there and become a Dark Knight again at the site of Mr. Richardson. He barely spoke on that ride home, until we pulled into the driveway hours before expected. He turned to look at me, then, grasping the hand that he had been holding for the whole ride a bit tighter. "Sarah...I'm so sorry about this. Are you sure you're okay? He didn't get too far with you?" He adjusted himself for a moment and sat with his legs folded on the seat, ignoring the curious glances of neighbors as he stared straight into me.

"I promise I'm okay. He didn't get far, just roughed my shoulder up a little." I insisted. He climbed out and opened the door, tugging me out of the car gently and let me curl into his arms, something I'd been dying to do since I had seen him in Wayne Enterprises. Everything seemed perfect from the outside, of course. To bystanders, we looked every bit of a mushy, married couple embracing before starting the evening together, but I could feel him shaking against me and knew that he was probably even more upset over it than I was. "Although I would _love_ a back massage, hmm? I'm sure you could make my shoulder feel better." I shrugged away from him and took a hold of his arms, making him look at me instead of everywhere else. His walls were tumbling down, just as mine had before.

He was being taken back to Gotham City, right before my eyes, and I just prayed I could stop his thoughts from going too haywire. He couldn't go back to that place, not again.


End file.
